


the apocalypse and you

by ultncts



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, M/M, Mention of Death, NCT 2018, Pain, Sadness, Softness, True Love, Violence, War, i am sorry lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 04:03:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21721462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultncts/pseuds/ultncts
Summary: don’t fall in love during the apocalypse.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 27
Kudos: 96





	the apocalypse and you

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i am very scared and nervous to post this. i think this is one of m favourite things i have ever written.
> 
> i decided to write this after hearing the song apocalypse by cigarettes after sex (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLqfkSTtEAI). please check the song out while reading!
> 
> i want to warn you that there is mention of death and war in this fic, nothing to explicit, but please be prepared for that. I rated it as explicit just to be on the safe side! 
> 
> Enjoy!

the sound of another helicopter hitting the water of han river echoed through the street, making each and every wall around mark shake and shiver. it was the second one in the past twenty-five hours, another life gone. he pushes the sound to the back of his head, and proceeded to double-check that the window was locked tight, before making his way back into his bathroom, locking the door tightly behind him and turning off all lights in the room, plunging him into darkness.

he stayed in the bathtub during the night, his body curled up in half, his arms hugging the sweatshirt that was worn by his mother, before all of this happened. he was scared. he wanted to crumble.

he didn’t remember what time he woke up, but he is brought to life by the familiar sound of the wired siren, blaring, ringing, filling marks eardrums until he wants to scream. but he didn’t, screaming was not aloud, he cannot be found, because he would be taken away, to one of the camps, hospitals, or to the graveyard.

he pattered to the kitchen, paying no attention to the pair of dusty glasses that sit on the counter. he can’t look at them, he can’t remind himself of the _before_. he pours himself a small bowl of cereal, only small, because he was running low on milk, and he was too frightened to try and make his way to the store during this time of day. it was too early, too manic, he didn’t want to be caught by the patrols, not yet, anyway.

he eats it quickly, his hands shaking, the spoon quivering in his hand. he’s ready to go back into the bathroom, and hide his head with his hands all day, to block out the sounds of the screams outside. but then, as if he was dreaming, he can hear a knock on the front door.

 _this can’t be happening,_ mark thinks, quickly dropping his spoon and scrunching himself up behind the kitchen counter, his head in his knees. he’s crying now, his body trembling. _I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die._

someone knocks again, and again, and again, until he can hear the letter box open, and a voice ring through into the dark room.

“please, if anyone is there” the voice was pleading. marks body stops trembling, and he lifts his head to listen more intently. “please open up, please help me, please, please”

 _this could be a trap,_ mark reminded himself. a way to find the missing, he stays where he is. he tried to not let the guilt eat at him when he hears the letter box close. what if they need help, _what if they’ll be taken to the graveyard, mark?_

his pulls his broken body from the floor, and takes four careful steps over to the door, making sure his body can’t be seen from the gaps in the curtains by the window. without making a sound, he glares through the round peephole. he prepares himself to see a guard, he prepares himself to see a gun, a mask, something malicious, but that is not what he saw.

instead, a boy, a boy with dark purple hair, a boy with blood on his face. he’s looking around, helplessly. his eyebrow is red and oozing, and hands were stained ruby, he needs help. _help him_ , _mark._

the boy is hiding, his back on the wall of the house, so mark takes this as the chance to wrap a trembling hand around the rusty doorknob, and peels it open, he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t give the boy time to react, he grabs his arm, and pulls him into the silence of his house. a gasp leaves the mouth of the rescued as the front door slams shut, and mark locks it.

“who are you” mark asks, standing a few meters away from the intruder. _he’s not an intruder, you brought him in._ though mark has to be careful, he could be a spy, he could be working for them.

“thank you thank you thank you” the stranger has tears falling from his eyes, it makes marks heart soften for a sweet second, before the voice in his head reminds him to not get too comfortable. “they found me, you saved me”

mark quickly runs to the kitchen, taking his emergency kit from a cupboard above the stove. “you’re injured”

the boy nods, and gulps. mark notices his clothes are torn, and his hands are shaking. he knows this feeling, all too well, the pure fear, the pure trepidation. “they killed them”

“them?” mark asks, he’s worried. what if they come for him next? what if they are onto him? marks hands are trembling, ever so slightly, as he reaches a cloth to the eyebrow, wiping it carefully. they are too close, mark hasn’t been this close to another body for far too long. this is bad. mark knows this. but he doesn’t stop.

the boy gulps again, the tears still working inside of his round eyes. “my family”

mark knows this feeling all too well, too. he hates the pit of familiarity that falls into his chest, and his burning desire to wrap his arms around the new body, the temptation to tell him that they can get through this, because he knows eventually, they won’t get through this. it’s inevitable.

mark nods, making sure the cut on his eyebrow isn’t too deep, which it isn’t. the other body shudders when a loud bang from outside fills the room, his bottom lip quivering.

“what’s your name?” mark asked, passing the boy a new cloth to wipe down his bloody hands. the water in the kitchen doesn’t work anymore, so a wipe is the only thing he can use to wipe down he ruby stains on his skin. soon it’ll be time for the water in the bathroom to run out too, leaving mark empty. he’s prepared, of course.

“donghyuck” his voice is small, nothing more than a mere whisper. is he shy or just scared of getting found? “you?”

“mark, my name is mark” it’s silent for a second, even outside. not a shudder, not even the sound of a car, a gun, silence. it’s somewhat suffocating.

—

the sound of the alarm fills the cold walls. it’s morning, this means, it’s time to live out another bleak day, this means. mark opens his eyelids, his body crumbled into the small bathtub he hides in. it’s even more crumbled now there are two bodies to fill it.

donghyuck wakes up slowly too, his hand reaching out to grasp marks arm. he has done this every day for the past month, to check mark is still there, to check mark has not been taken. it’s comforting, for the most part. having someone, having donghyuck.

donghyuck was like a star, mark thought. even in all this darkness, and emptiness, donghyuck found a way to shine. he found a way to laugh, a way to run around the house with a smile on his face, a way to brighten up marks life. _you love him, mark, he’s a friend, you love him as a friend._

“good morning” mark hummed, voice low and croaky, he peels himself from the cold of the tub, and stretches to sit up. donghyuck is called into a ball, half on his lap. good thing he was not too tall, else his legs would be by his ears.

a small scream is heard outside, and mark makes the mistake of poking an eye through his broken curtains, a girl running is what he sees, before she disappears behind a wall. mark hasn’t seen another body that isn’t donghyuck’s in weeks. it felt strange.

“I’m hungry” donghyuck replies after a minute, he used marks thighs to push his way up, his eyes swollen. mark liked this about him, his purity, his ability to be so cute no matter what. _you love him, mark, you love him as more than a friend._

“we have some fruits left over, from last week” mark told him, crawling from the small space, letting his sock-clad feet hit the ground. “do you want me to bring you some?”

donghyuck shakes his head, yet follows marks lead, peeling himself from the bathtub to walk to the kitchen with him, mark notices his arm hooks around his own. he likes that. human contact. it was a rarity before donghyuck arrived. it was still somewhat a rarity now, donghyuck knew there were boundaries, he broke them sometimes, like right now. mark liked that. when he broke the boundaries.

“I miss chicken” donghyuck’s voice was subtle. his body finding its way to the small armchair that sits in the room. he curls into it, face squishing against the blue material. “I miss chicken soup, do you remember that?”

“waking up on a cold morning and eating chicken soup, or when you were sick, and your parents would bring you chicken soup in bed, that was great” marks voice turned sad half-way through the sentence. remembering the past was hard, the image of his parents flickering in his mind, the image of his older brother, laughing, punching him on the arm, bringing him a drink, flickers in his head.

“don’t be sad, mark” donghyuck can see the glare in marks brown eyes. donghyuck knows it’s okay to cross the floor and use his thumbs to wipe the tears from his eye. he knows this is what mark needs, comfort. he needs comfort during these times of weakness. “think of the past as a happy memory, like we said, okay?”

mark nods. he knew this was harder for donghyuck, his loss just so very recent. mark has had time to grow, he was forced to grow, donghyuck lost it all, he had to be strong. _for him, mark, be strong for donghyuck._

“okay” mark nods again, his eyes meeting the pair that stare back at him, a mere few inches away. the air feels warm, when they are like this. close, human. “thank you”

“you’re welcome” donghyuck does the unexpected, he presses a kiss to marks cheek. it’s soft, his lips feel warm against his skin. this is something mark had been craving, since this all began. “now, food”

mark laughs inwardly, shuffling over to open the fridge. he’s met with a mere sight, a few bananas (mark doesn’t think they should be kept in the fridge, but donghyuck argues they taste better cold), some fresh veggies mark stole from a garden, and a half-bottle of milk. he pulls out a carrot, and tomatoes. there’s not many left, but he knows that donghyuck likes them. he feels a need to protect him now, since he rescued him.

it’s a lame excuse for a breakfast, really. mark wants to hand him over a syrup-oozing pancake, with a mug of coffee, but a small bowl of carrots, tomatoes and a cold banana will have to suffice. donghyuck is grateful anyway and eats it without complaints.

mark thinks for a moment that, despite spending every day inside of this house with donghyuck for the past month, he knows little about his past life, he knows he ran from the city of anyang, alone, with nothing but a small bag on his shoulder. he wants to ask, to hear about his mother, his siblings, maybe his pets. he wants to ask what he studied at school, and if he played any instruments, but he doesn’t, he can’t bring himself to let the words slip from his tongue.

“what are you staring at?” donghyuck asks, and mark feels his cheeks burning with red at the fact he was caught, staring. he was staring at the way the donghyuck ate, filling his cheeks with the small content of food before swallowing it down. the way his honey-coloured fingers clasped the fork, like a fist. it’s silent, mark notices, he can only hear the wind outside.

“I was just thinking” mark admits, leaning forward to press his elbows to the counter. _about you._

“about the before?” donghyuck sighs, dropping his fork into the empty bowl. mark nods slowly, carefully, he doesn’t want to upset his new company, he doesn’t want to scare him away, or make things too awkward. “what do you want to know, mark?”

 _everything._ “did you have pets?”

donghyuck laughs slightly, his eyes creasing. mark liked that, about him. “I had a dog called dodo, she ran away one night when the fires started, so I assume she didn’t make it far”

mark hums, thinking about where his old dog, lily, would be right now. he knows the answer, she’s dead. but he doesn’t want to think like that, so he imagines her in a field in jeju, running around the flowers chasing a stick, that was a nicer image.

“my mother, was a chef” donghyuck speaks again, answering questions mark didn’t verbally ask to hear. “she cooked pork belly with white rice, every thursday, and let me and my sister have a soda as a treat after school on fridays, sometimes mondays is my father was at work”

marks heart feels heavy in his chest. the tear that rolls down donghyuck’s cheek makes his heavy heart fall into his stomach, so he wipes it from his skin with the flat of his thumb. “I had a sister too, she studied french at school”

mark doesn’t speak, he doesn’t answer donghyuck’s words. he lets the other sob into his touch, his words coming out small.

“my father ratted us out to the guards” donghyuck confines, mark can see his small hands curve into fists on the table. “he got them all killed, in the middle of the night, he told them we were stealing goods, he told them that we were rebelling, they killed them all including him”

marks mouth falls into an ‘o’. _hug him mark, you fool._

donghyuck melts into marks touch, his head burying into the warmth of marks chest. mark strokes his hair with his hand, holding him close when the sound of aircraft flying above shakes the house. he whispers that everything will be okay, and that his family are watching over him to get him though this.

they stand there for what feels like an hour, donghyuck sobbing into marks chest, wetting his green sweater. mark stokes his hair, his hair that is wet from his own tears when he realises; _life would really suck without donghyuck here right now._

_—_

leaving the house in broad daylight was scary. leaving at anytime was scary, but mark had to leave, he had to escape the four walls to get food, and drink and supplies, like toilet roll and shampoo.donghyuck was hungry, his body was thinning ever so slightly, donghyuck had been in marks life for only three months now, but mark would have done anything to protect him.

it was quiet, the past few weeks. the guards stopped searching, they had moved down to busan, to stop the riots that were still going on there. so the streets were empty, ghostly. mark would shake as he passed every street, keeping his head low, a knife in his pocket. donghyuck didn’t want to come, he never did. he was too frightened, too afraid that what happened to his family will happen to him, but mark didn’t mind that, he liked that. it was safer inside.

mark reaches the normal store he attends every other week. it was empty, and the glass window has been smashed in five places. inside was bleak too, most food was inedible by now, but most things like tinned fruit, and some of the frozen vegetables were available to eat. there was no one working in the store anymore, the dry blood smeared on the wall behind the till told mark it didn’t end well here, but he stills acts as if it was normal, as if nothing had happened.

mark grabs some frozen vegetables, two bottles of water, a box of cereal that was most likely stale, a flavour he doesn’t favour but donghyuck likes it, some tinned fruits, pineapples and peaches, and throws them into the same plastic bag he’s been using for the past four months. one he found disposed on the street.

he wondered about the before, he wonders whose hands held the bag, he wonders about their family, their struggle. it causes him to have a lump in his throat, one that he has to push into his chest to allow his feet to start moving again. _forget it, mark._

“hi jiyoung, just this please” mark talks to himself, pretending that there was someone behind the counter. it was always jiyoung, mark imagines a young boy, working part time while studying at school. there was no reply, but mark left some coins on the counter, so he wasn’t technically stealing the food. these would be gone the next time he came. someone was taking them, someone mark didn’t know, or see. “thank you, see you next time!”

_you really are a saddo, mark._

when mark arrives back at the house, donghyuck is curled into a ball on the couch, his eyes wandering out of the closed window, a finger holding open the blinds. mark watches him flinch when the door closes behind him, but his tense expression fades when he sees mark setting the food onto the counter.

“what are you doing?” mark asks, eyeing up the boy, who doesn’t uncurl himself from the seat he’s occupying. he doesn’t speak for a moment, the sound of a heavy, yet comforting silence filling the room. “are you okay?”

“I’m okay” the smallness of donghyuck’s voice worries mark. his eyes are still lingering out of the window, his hands tracing the glass. “it’s empty”

“what is?” mark walks towards donghyuck, kneeling onto the couch next to him, his knee brushing the other. he looks out to where donghyuck is staring, and he knows what he means without donghyuck replying yet. he knows what he means. he knows.

“this country, it’s empty” donghyuck replies. the hoarseness of his voice is worrying. _don’t let him cry mark, you hate it when he cries._ “I remember looking out of the windows in my house, and watching the kids run the street in their school uniforms, I used to hate when they would yell and laugh early in the morning, but now it’s a sound I crave”

donghyuck drops his eyes and limbs from the window, instead he falls against marks shoulder. his skin is warm, and his messy hair smells like strawberries. it’s hardly purple anymore, now a faded lavender, mark hadn’t been able to find hair dye since they met, that was something that was banned a while ago, when the laws began to change.

“I used to hate when the postman would shove letters through the letterbox at six in the morning, because it would scare the dog and she would bark for twenty minutes” donghyuck continues, letting his hands fall against marks. _hold his hand, mark._ donghyuck doesn’t shudder when mark interlocks their fingers, using the base of his thumb to rub his skin. “but now, I wish I could hear that sound”

donghyuck’s hand felt like honey, in the best way. he felt like warmth, it felt like security. it felt like something. something mark needed. the warmth spreads through the veins in his hand, to his arm and to his chest, right into the centre of his heart. _is this what love feels like?_

“my brother used to cry every-time a bird would land on his windowsill, because he was scared of them” mark added, a small laugh leaving his lips at the memory of his brother running into the living room with red eyes. “now, when I see a pigeon, or a seagull at the window, I get sad because I can’t hear him cry and beg me for help”

“I miss the before” donghyuck’s head is buried into marks shoulder. his hand gripping onto his own as if it was the only thing in the world. for him, it was. they had nothing else, but each other. “I miss the sound of the beeping at supermarkets, I miss the sound of my mothers slippers on the floor, I miss my best friends teasing me over my hair, I mis-“

“hyuck stop” mark knew he needed to stop him. he knew he needed to calm him, and tell him that doing this does not help them, remembering life before t did not help. “you have me now, okay?”

donghyuck looks up at him, his head leaving his shoulder temporarily. mark thinks, for a moment, that right now, they could kiss, because donghyuck’s lips are less than two centimetres away from his own. he knew that’s what happens in movies, when people stare at each-other in this way. he wondered what this feeling meant, the feeling of desire to reach out and cup the face of his rescue, to kiss his lips until they were red raw. he wondered if this was because, donghyuck was the only person he knew, anymore.

but donghyuck looks away, and falls back into his shoulder. _you idiot, mark, you should have kissed him._

“I wonder who else is left in this town” mark was trying to break the somewhat awkward tension that fell in the room. “it seems like there’s no one here, but there must be, there must be someone”

“the day you saved me I saw a boy, he was hiding, his body was behind a car” donghyuck whispers, almost as if he feels guilty. “he had white hair, but when I turned back to ask him to run with me, he was gone”

“are you scared?”

“of what, mark?” donghyuck’s hand had found its way back into marks. this was good, this was safe.

“the future, do you think this will ever end?” as if on cue, the sound of a large plane can be heard, flying lowly overhead. the sound of cars, blaring and whirring down the street break the safe silence of their home.

donghyuck’s eyes widen, and mark can hear his heart hammering in his chest as he carefully peels back the blinds, to see them. they were back, with their black suits and black guns, their picket signs and megaphones, their determination.

“we’ll be okay, hyuck” mark comforts him, as the other lets a tear roll down his cheek. “we’ll always be okay”.

but mark wasn’t sure if he believed it, because he was whisking donghyuck away into the bathroom, curling into the safe security of the bathtub. the doors were locked, and the lights were off. donghyuck trembles into his skin when the screams start, and when the loud gunfire ruptures the serenity of their home.

“don’t ever leave me, mark” the voice was barely a whisper, could barely be heard. but mark heard it, and pulled the other boy closer to his body, he was scared, he was cold now, shivering into his chest. “you’re all I have"

“you know I’ll never leave you, donghyuck” mark replies, his voice low. he was frightened too, things had been so peaceful, so empty and calm for the past month, but the sound of aircraft above them is loud, it fades, and comes back, and fades, and comes back. mark had truly thought the apocalypse had started, for good. he thought the country was empty now, he thought he would die in this home, but now he was unsure. he’s scared. very scared.

“I think” donghyuck says, his arm shaking around marks waist. “I think that I want to die, I don’t want to live through this anymore”

marks heart stops. mark heart falters in his chest. his eyebrows frown, and he uses his hand to lift up donghyuck’s chin. “never say that”

donghyuck tries to speak, but mark doesn’t let him. he wants to cry at donghyuck’s words, he wants to cry because he cares _so_ much. “donghyuck, do not ever say that, the day I brought you into this home you promised me you would fight, you promised me you would get through this”

donghyuck swallows, and for a moment silence fell over the city, mark cant tell if this is because all he can hear is the thumping in his chest. donghyuck is staring into marks eyes, his chin still in marks grasp. mark thinks about how donghyuck’s eyes are glossy, radiating the image of the stars. they sit there for a moment, skin on skin, listening to the silence, and mark sighs, he wants to kiss him. _kiss him, mark._

and so he does. he leans his lips onto donghyuck’s, the other gasps, but let’s his lips falter against marks. donghyuck’s lips taste of summer, mark thinks. donghyuck’s lips taste like heaven, mark knows. he wants to stay like this, forever, his lips pressed against the only light in his world, because he doesn’t know how long this can last.

_—_

_“what’s going on, mom?” marks voice was high, his body trembling as his mother grabs the collar of his shirt. the sounds of guns outside scare him, the sound of the screaming outside make tears fall down his cheeks. “mom are we at war?”_

_“I told you mark, when this all started, that this will end badly for us” his mother cries. her tears are staining her cheeks. he can hear his brother in the room beside them watching the news, he’s crying too. “this isn’t a war, but the president has messed up, he’s made some bad deals, they want our country, mark, we have to go”_

_mark was nineteen. he wasn’t stupid. he knew the moment his older brother walks into the room with a large backpack on his back, and his hands trembling, that they had to run. he knew this was going to happen eventually, he knew from the media, he knew from the news, that the apocalypse was going to start. he just didn’t expect it to happen today, it felt like it had erupted._

_“taeyong, do you have everything packed?” his mother’s voice was panicked. mark can hear cars racing down the street._

_“we have to go, okay, boys?” his mother sets her glasses on the kitchen counter, next to the morning paper. mark remembers seeing the warnings on the front page, but he didn’t take it seriously. he wishes he did. “if we split up, just call me, I’ll find you”._

_but marks phone was already out of service. the president had turned them off, a week ago._

_taeyong nodded, and threw his arms around marks torso. mark takes note of his scent at this moment, in case anything happened. he smells like the cranberry body wash he used every day. this was marks favourite scent. taeyong kissed his head, before grabbing his hand and leading him onto the street. “I love you mark, okay?”_

_everything feels like a blur from this point forward. mark watches as a man dressed in black approaches his mother, a gun in his hand. mark watches as she screams, as taeyong runs to her side. he watches as she fights him away, he watches as she struggles under his grip. he’s telling her she cannot be here, he’s telling her that she has to leave, and come to the camps. taeyong pushes him away, and yells at mark to get back inside of the house. he watches as the man takes a gun and places it to his mother’s stomach. he watches as the neighbours run to unforeseen safety, mark watches this, inside of his mother’s pain. the sound of her screams is drowned out by mark throwing his hands to his ears._

_he watched as taeyong is taken by the wrist, his frail body faltering under the touch of the man in the black suit, he watches as he’s thrown into the back of the van, he watches as taeyong shoots him a pleading look through the half open window, nothing but regret, nothing but fear in his eyes. he’s begging, he’s begging for his brother, he’s begging for his mother, who is being carried away, lifeless. he’s begging for release, but he doesn’t get it._

_that’s the last time mark sees his brother, and the last time he sees his mother. it’s the last time he sees the street so busy, it’s not a nice memory, because the blood and helicopters in the sky ruin the usual sentient of his town. mark runs inside, locking the doors, running to the bathroom, crying into the cold of the bathtub. he remains there, for two days, without moving, he can’t believe he made it out alive._

_—_

“what are you doing, baby?”

donghyuck turns, his eyes bright like the moon. he is curled up against the window, like usual. his hair is a mess against this head, and his body is engulfed in one of marks old sweatshirts. mark hadn’t seen that sweatshirt in a year, yet donghyuck had found it under the wardrobe two nights ago. he had his mobile phone in his hand, it was out of service, of course.

“come look at this, mark!” donghyuck’s voice was excited, and mark quickly ran over to the couch donghyuck was cuddled into after placing his plastic bag on the counter, next to the glasses. he notices that donghyuck was filming something, and then he sees that outside the window, there is two cows walking the street. what a funny sight. “cows! in the city!”

mark laughs. mark laughs hard. this is the first sign of life they have seen in three weeks, since the fighting ended. donghyuck leans to press a kiss against marks cold cheek, and it sends shock waves through his chest. they hadn’t spoken much about _them_ since mark had kissed him. they didn’t need too. they are all each-other had. the hand holding, the kissing, the sex, it was all they had. _it’s love, mark, you fool._

“I bet we’ll see more animals in the street, these days” mark says, running his hands through donghyuck’s hair. “there’s no control between the country sides, to here, anymore.”

donghyuck stifled his laugh, his chest is rising and falling in time with marks, it’s been a few days since mark saw donghyuck look so happy. this was a relief, sadness did not look good on him.

donghyuck interlocks his hand with marks. warm and soft, melting against marks skin, his eyes are still lingering over the cows on the street, who are walking out of sight. “what did you buy at the store?”

“I found some tinned cranberries today” mark says, proudly. his voice wavers, and donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “they were at the back of the shelf, hidden by the pineapple”

“why does that make you sad?” donghyuck asks, closing the blind with his spare hand and turning to face mark with his full attention, his eyes glaring like the moon, deep into marks mind.

“my brother used to smell like cranberries” mark was truthful. donghyuck kisses him softly, to stop the tears that were brimming at his eyes. “he used to use a cranberry body wash every day, it was the last smell I remember before he was taken”

donghyuck hums, nodding his head slowly. mark knew he was at a loss of words. it was hard to talk about. they tried to not talk about the before more than once a day, they promised to talk about the future instead.

“do you ever wonder where he ended up?” donghyuck’s voice was careful, his hand squeezing marks tightly, to comfort him. it worked, the feeling of his honey fingers against his own helped burn the fire in his chest.

“all the time” mark smiles softly at the image of his brown haired brother running through the house topless, the image of his brother chasing him with a bug he found from outside, and the image of a five year old mark being tainted on the playgroup by the mud his brother had smeared on his face.

“I like to think he escaped this all, I like to think he ended up escaping to China, or maybe to America, and he’s sitting in the sun with a smile on his face, maybe a ring on his finger and a child at his feet...”

donghyuck kisses the tears that are on marks cheeks.

“but really deep down, I know he’s at the graveyard” mark chokes on his words. his chest feels like it’s going to explode. it burns inside, the image. the horrible image of his beautiful bother. he wants to scream, he wants to scream for release, he wants it to all go back to how it was before. _pull yourself together, pull yourself together, pull yourself together, mark._

“I’m sorry” donghyuck says quickly, using both his arms to wrap himself around marks skinny frame. donghyuck feels like safety, which calms marks racing heart, it sizzles the fire in his chest. mark feels grateful that donghyuck is here. he feels grateful that he has someone to hold. “I shouldn’t have asked”

“I love you” it was the first time mark had said this. it was the first time mark had admitted his love for the other boy. he knew that this was love, he knew that the burning sensation inside his veins every time they touched was love. he knew it was. _it’s love, mark._ “I love you so much, donghyuck”

“I think it was fate, that brought me here” donghyuck smiles onto marks shoulder, before pulling away to stare into marks damp eyes. “because I’ve never felt love before this”

 _he loves you back, mark_.

donghyuck kissed mark so beautifully in that moment. his hands on either side of his head. his fingers running through his black hair. his lips tasted like heaven, and his body felt like the ocean against his own, swirling and crashing him into a dream-like momentum. it was times that this that for just a moment, both boys could forget they were living through an apocalypse, they could forget they were alone in this town, they could forget what had happened before.

they stay like this, for a while, until mark breaks the kiss, pulling donghyuck’s body closer to his own. he smells like summer, he smells like hot chocolate on a snowy day, he smells like love. _your smitten, mark._

 _“_ how did you find my house?” mark asks, after a moment, letting his hands rest on donghyuck’s shoulders. “out of every house in this town, how did you find me?”

“I knocked on every door on the street” donghyuck smiles, his cheeks rounding, his eyes sparkling. “I was ready to give up, no one answered, every house was empty, until I saw the half broken number twelve on your door, that’s always been my lucky number”

marks lips part to a small ‘o’. his hands are still firm on donghyuck’s shoulders, his heart still beating in his chest. mark wants to reply, but donghyuck continues, his voice breaking the momentary silence. “I knocked, I knocked and knocked because deep down I thought someone would save me, and then I felt your hand around my wrist, and I knew everything was going to be okay”.

“did you run for long?” despite knowing donghyuck for four months now, mark has never asked him about that day, the day were the helicopters were rushing over the city, the day people were screaming. “how did you not get caught?”

“I travelled carefully, I walked with my head low, I walked with a knife in my pocket” mark remembers donghyuck sliding the knife into the kitchen draw, in silence, two hours after he had came into his home. “I went into the small alleys, and never into the main streets, I stayed away from Seoul’s centre, I stayed away from anyone”

mark hums. it’s hard to talk about. so instead, he lets his hands trail up donghyuck’s neck, and play with the lavender hair that sits on his nape. if It wasn’t for the hair cutting scissors marks mother kept in the kitchen draw, his hair would be to his shoulders by now, but mark found refuge in sitting him down every week, and trimming his hair. it felt like a little bit of normal, it felt like a little bit of before.

“you know, when I was shopping I saw a plane fly over me” mark starts, a worried expression building on the face of his lover. “but it wasn’t _them,_ It was miles into the sky, hardly a dot”

“a commercial plane” donghyuck just about whispers, his eyes not leaving marks for a second. he sounded down-sighted, he sounded hopeful.

“a commercial plane” mark repeats, fingers still tugging at the hair. “they are probably americans, heading to somewhere like tokyo, or somewhere like thailand, to relish in the sun”

donghyuck smiles fondly at the image. his arms caressing marks waist, whispering “little kids crying on the plane, the air hostesses trying to calm them by playing peakaboo”

“I wonder what they see when they look to out of the window, flying above us” donghyuck continues, mark struggles on wether to focus on his soft voice, or the soft hands on his waist. “that’ll be us, one day, though”

“what will?”

“the plane, well be sitting there, hand in hand, waiting to land in london, or paris, or maybe even South Africa” there is a wide smile on donghyuck’s face, all of his teeth on show. he’s laughing too, maybe because of excitement, because of hope, or because deep down he knows what he’s saying is somewhat unrealistic. “maybe we will have matching rings, on our fingers, and my hair will be the brightest shade of purple you will ever see”

mark kisses him, he kisses him so that he can feel his smile against his lips. he kisses him so he can absorb his beautiful hope, he kisses him every chance he gets because he doesn’t want to ever forget the taste of his lips.

donghyuck laughs into his mouth, and pulls him down on top of him. mark is over him, both hands on either side of his head, pressing against the couch. he’s planting kisses all over his mouth, down his neck, over his chest. they laugh like this until the sun sets, until they fall onto the floor, limb in limb. they laugh and kiss until they are forced to reside to the locked confinement of the bathroom, where they curl up into the bathtub, and they laugh until the sun comes up.

_—_

mark was wandering through the store he usually visits, trying to find something that was still edible to surprise donghyuck. it was a special day, today. he shuffled past where the old bakery used to reside, he wishes he could buy donghyuck some bread, but they were too old, too dusty, too contaminated.

he lets his legs wander to where the freezers were at the back. these were no good. the power has now gone, they were contaminated too. of course, this worries mark, it shakes his chest in a strange way. it won’t be long before the power in his, their, home is gone, too. he wishes he could buy donghyuck a cake, a big purple cake with candles, twenty candles that were rainbow coloured, but this store didn’t have that.

“ah, jiyoung, what do you buy your boyfriend to eat on their birthday? mark asks his imaginary friend as he crosses by the counter. the coins he left months ago were still there. covered in a thin layer of dust. the person who usually takes them did not, and mark assumed the worst had happened.

and then like magic, mark spots a sticker on the edge of the till, the till that is out of service, the contents emptied. it’s a flower, a small flower sticker a child would stick to their knee on a summer day, with pink and yellow petals, covered with glitter. _flowers, mark, always buy your boyfriend flowers._

they weren’t edible, of course, and mark was missing the chubby cheeks donghyuck presented when they first met, so he sets out to find a bar of chocolate that is still in date, he succeeds, placing a white bar into his plastic bag. he finds some cookies, and grabs the usual tinned fruit and vegetables donghyuck liked to eat for dinner. mark doesn’t favour them, anymore, they were watery and mark craved real food, but donghyuck liked them.

when mark arrives home, he closes the door with a content sigh. it thinks it’s silly to still be scared, because by this point, the city is vacant. when he walks home, he hears nothing but the pattering of his feet, he sees nothing but the few droplets of summer rain that fall onto his eyelashes, but going into the confinement’s of his small home is still a relief.

“donghyuck?” mark calls out, setting his bag of shopping onto the counter. he holds the flowers in a tight fist.

there is no reply.

“hyuck?” mark calls again, a gloom of dread falling into his chest. _no no no no no, not him._ “donghyuck where the fuck are you?”

he is yelling, the flowers he brought dropping to the wooden floor. the worst runs through his head, fear, dread, the image of a gravestone, the image of his brother being taken away in the black van. his chest burns, the tears on his cheeks sink into his bones.

he runs through the house, passing by the stairs, passing by the bathroom. yelling his boyfriends name over, over, over, again. there is no reply. there is no reply. there is no reply.

“this isn’t funny hyuck” mark chokes on a sob, when he hears feet pattering behind him, and a warm hand on his shoulder. safety, it felt like saftey.

“mark”

mark spins on his heels, his glistening eyes meeting the ones that look like stars. he is safe, he is here. he is okay. the horrible images fizzle from marks mind, and all he can do is throw his arms around the waist of _him_. “I’m sorry, mark, I was in the garden, looking at the rainbow that has formed, I didn’t hear you”

guilt is ridden all over donghyucks face. he looks scared, his hands trembling, mark can feel them shake against the small of his back.

“it’s okay, baby” mark rocks him, mark rocks him until he’s calm, until they are both calm. until their breaths are steady, and their bodies melt into each-other in the magical way they always do. “it’s not your fault, okay? I panicked”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere without you, mark” his words sink into marks neck, warm and hot against his pale skin. “you know that”

mark knows this. of course he does. but he doesn’t know if someone would rip donghyuck away from him, taking him somewhere mark doesn’t want to think about.

“happy birthday” mark whispers, squeezing donghyuck’s waist with his hands. he can feel the other smile onto his skin, his teeth grazing his neck, mark hugs him for a few seconds longer, before pulling away to kiss his lips. “wait here”

donghyuck tilts his head to the side like a puppy, his eyes bright and hopeful. mark rushes to the front door and picks up the flowers he dropped to the ground. he spent ages picking them, going into vacant gardens, placing the brightest, prettiest ones inside of a tin he had emptied out. they were still okay, despite the fall they received.

mark walks back to the hallway carefully, not letting the flowers fall out of the tin, not letting them look bad, he wanted to impress donghyuck, make him smile brighter than he ever had, make him happy.

it was all worth it, when donghyuck’s teeth are on full shine, and his hands are on either side of his head. it’s all worth it when he sees tears in his eyes, it’s all worth it because he’s happy.

“flowers?” he reaches out a hand, grabbing the tin from mark, and brings it to his nose to take a deep breath. he looked beautiful, like this. his tanned skin damp from the rain in the garden, his hair slightly messy on his head, his lips curving into a smile. mark doesn’t ever want to forget this look, so he pulls his phone from his pocket to take a picture.

“you like them?” mark asks, smiling still as donghyuck touches the petals softly with his fingers. “I’m not sure what flowers are your favourite, so I hope these are okay”

“I love them, mark” mark feels a pair of soft lips against his own, short but sweet, short but grateful, short but perfect. “thank you so much”

mark brings donghyuck into the living room once more, it’s connected to the kitchen, and donghyuck decides to set the flowers next to the dusty pair of glasses. something is uneasy inside of marks chest, the image of the flowers, which represent his new life with donghyuck, sitting alive next to a pair of untouched glasses, that were owned by his late mother. strange, yet somewhat comfortable, some hope of sorts, for the future. _it means everything will all be okay, mark._

music is something that is somewhat a distant memory, in marks mind. he had music saved to his phone, but it was hard to listen to, it reminded him too much of the past, the before. that’s why when donghyuck pulls out his own phone, to play an old song, one that mark can barely remember, he feels goosebumps on his skin. it’s quiet, and peaceful.

mark finds himself, sitting on the wooden floor, shoulder to shoulder with donghyuck, their hands intertwined, with the phone playing the music peacefully by his side.

“do you ever wonder about the music that’s being released in the other countries?” donghyuck asks, his voice breaking the quiet serenity of the home.

“I guess” mark was truthful. “I miss music, part of me wishes they didn’t take our phones out of service, purely so we could listen to the new music coming out, it feels lonely here, without it”

donghyuck hums, letting his fingers rub circles in marks skin. the song finishes, and a song by frank ocean plays next, one of marks favourite songs, he hasn’t listened to it in what feels like months, years.

“I wonder what’s going on, in the other countries” donghyuck whispers, his foot tapping the floor to the beat of the song. “I wonder if what happened here has happened there, I wonder if people tried to save us, our country”

it was a sullen thought.

“we should go to paris” donghyuck spoke suddenly, a crazy scheme, a scheme of his wildest dreams. but he’s smiling, the hope of getting out of this apocalypse one of a wonder, one of excitement.

donghyuck jumps onto his feet, towering over mark, he’s dancing, his hips swaying. “we can go through china, then through russia, and we can buy a canoe and paddle all the way to paris”

donghyuck is spinning, humming the tune of a paris-inspired beat. his hair flops around his ears as he spins, cupping his smiling face. “and we can eat pancakes by the louvre!”

mark laughs, he laughs because donghyuck is funny. literally and metaphorically, the image of donghyuck swaying around he living room, his white shirt coming unhinged at his hips was one of a dream. “dance with me, mark! dance like we are in paris!”

his voice is almost too loud, almost too shrill, anyone walking past would be able to hear him. _who gives a fuck, mark, dance with him._

mark thinks that they danced for hours, and hours. his arm wrapped around donghyuck’s waist, spinning him over and over again. and then donghyuck’s head against his shoulder when a slow song comes on, and then spinning him again, around and around. they dance with their hands linked, with smiles on their faces, they dance until they feel sick. they dance until they collapse onto the floor in a bundle of laughter, a bundle of limbs, a bundle of happiness.

“i think I’ll love you forever” donghyuck says breathlessly, a large, loud laugh escaping his throat.his chest is rising and falling, and he’s swinging his long legs over marks, so that every inch of his skin is touching the others. “forever and ever”

“I think so too” mark replies, trying to catch his breath. “to the first of many birthdays!”

mark kisses him, again, again, again and again, until the sun sets. _you’re so lucky, cherish him forever, mark._

_—_

_donghyuck wakes up on a warm mattress, his toes are poking out the edge of his bed, catching the whisks of cold air sending shivers down his spine. He opens his eyes, too bright, he thinks, closing them shut again. too early, he thinks, but it’s probably nearly midday by now._

_he pulls the olive green duvet up around his neck, wallowing in the detergent smell, it smells like a field of flowers on a rainy day, with a hint of ocean breeze, and candy, all at one. it smelled like home. it smelled like safety._

_this was enough for donghyuck to drift back to sleep, his eyelids heavy, dropping over his hazel eyes. this serenity doesn’t last long, because there’s three sharp knocks to his door, sending his body into a upright position._

_“donghyuck-ah!” it was his mother’s voice, loud and shrill, yet loving all at the same time. “come downstairs and have some dinner,”_

_“I’m tired!” his reply was curt, and probably not heard by his mother who was already walking back out into the kitchen. but he was already awake now, his body too busy to fall back to sleep, so he lets his legs carry him into the kitchen, his feet snug inside of his favourite pair of slippers._

_his sister is sitting at the dining table, a pair of round glasses perched on her nose, her face which is carefully studying the cells of whales in her college book, a frown forming at her eyebrows. she’s lazily spooning soup into her mouth, not even looking up when donghyuck enters the room. sisters, always like that._

_“morning, potter” donghyuck sniggers, earning a middle finger from his sister. he heads towards his mother who is standing over the stove in the kitchen, and rests his head on her shoulder. she smelt like roses, because that was her favourite scent. donghyuck has recently brought her a bottle of rose perfume, it was only cheap, but she made sure to wear it every day._

_“what do you want to eat, honey?” she asks, leaning into her sons touch. “there’s chicken soup here on the stove, or I can make you some noodles”_

_“he’s not a baby, he’s eighteen years old, he can make himself some food” his sister pipes up from the table, her voice laced with sarcasm, donghyuck replies by pulling a tea towel from the kitchen counter and aiming it at her head._

_“I’ll have some chicken soup, please” donghyuck’s voice is whiny, babyish, as he skips past his sister to sit opposite her. she still doesn’t look up from her book._

_when donghyuck’s farther walks into the kitchen, the mood shifts. he’s carrying a black briefcase, and his steps are hidden by the loud squeak of his shoes. his face is stern and angry, like he’s had a bad day, a bad night, a bad week._

_“hello honey, you’re home from work early” his mother says, rushing to his side to take the briefcase from his hands, “how was work?”_

_“things are not good, the president is thinking about sel-“ his voice is low, and he stops talking when he sees donghyuck and his sister staring up at him, curiously. donghyuck didn’t understand what was going on at the time. he just knew his dad had an important job, and was an important man. he didn’t think anything was wrong. “I’ll tell you about it later”_

_—_

on days like today, donghyuck woke up with the hope of smelling his favourite flowery bedsheets, to feel the cold at his toes, and the soft pounding on his door. but on days like today, donghyuck woke up with his back pressed against the cold of the bathtub, the cool sinking into his skin, and his face pressed against the chest of mark, mark mark mark. _he’s your safety, now, donghyuck._

“are you awake?” donghyuck whispers, running his fingers beneath marks shirt, so that he can caress his stomach. it’s soft and pale, but it feels like putty under his skin, so warm and so safe, so lovely, so very much mark.

he gets a small grunt for a reply, twisting uncomfortably. the bathtub wasn’t big enough for them, really. donghyuck didn’t know why they didn’t sleep on the couch, or even set up a bed on the floor. but he didn’t ask. mark wanted to sleep in the bathtub, almost as if it was his security, his safe place.

“I think it’s raining again today” donghyuck whispers, skin hot against the neck of the other body in bathtub with him. he feels a pair of slender fingers run through his hair, his hair that is almost black again due to regrowth, and he feels a smile spread across his face. “can you hear it?”

donghyuck can hear the rain pattering against the glass of the bathroom window, strong and pounding, relaxing all of his senses. donghyuck thinks that this moment is perfect, laying half awake with his body connected to one he loves, one that loves him, while the rain falls around them. he feels like they are the only people in the world, right now. maybe he’s right, maybe the world is empty, just him and mark left to love, left to live. it wouldn’t surprise him, anymore.

“you like the rain, don’t you?” mark finally speaks, voice croaking, full of sleep. “is that why you went into the garden a few days ago, to feel the rain?”

donghyuck hums, pressing a soft kiss to marks neck. he notices how mark has spread out so his legs are hanging over the edge of the tub, to make more room for donghyuck.

“I felt so trapped, in here” donghyuck says truthfully. he didn’t want to offend mark, or marks home. but that’s how he felt, and he knew mark understood. mark always understood, he understood everything, he understood donghyuck better than he understood himself. _be grateful for him, donghyuck._ “I haven’t left the house since the day you found me, I was scared, of going into the garden, scared of being seen, but I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to feel the rain on my skin, and smell the air”

donghyuck feels a kiss on his forehead, before mark is is pulling them both from the bathtub, and into the living room area. his hands are wrapped around donghyucks, like a warm blanket on a winters day. comfort, it’s all about comfort now, with them.

“what do you want to eat today?” mark asks, his voice still laced with sleep, with tiredness. he opens the fridge, there isn’t much there. there is no milk left, and there’s no more to buy at the store, because the power has gone on that side of town.

“I don’t mind” donghyuck shrugs, following him into the kitchen like a lost puppy, like a puppy on a leash, connected to mark by the hip. he loves that though, having someone to care for him, someone to call his own. “anything is food, why don’t we try and see if they have any tins of soup, maybe we could have that”

“I think I saw some tins there, last time” mark shoots him a small smile. donghyuck smiles back, not anticipating the strong kiss that’s pressed against his lips, lips like determination, lips like love.

“what was that for?” donghyuck asks, another kiss falling against his lips. and then another, and then another. “mark!”

“I just love you” donghyuck believes him. he believes every word that comes from his mouth. mark is his everything, mark is his home, mark is his life. “I love you more than I ever thought I could”

“shut up” donghyuck punches his side, playfully, of course, he’s struggling to hide his smile, so much that his cheeks hurt. “you're so cringe”

mark shrugs, and walks towards the door to put his jacket on, because the rain was coming down strong. donghyuck always feels sad when he watches mark walk out of the door, into the apocalypse, alone. donghyuck wishes he can go with him, hold his hand through the deserted streets, laugh with him, run with him. but mark won’t let him, he himself won’t let him. he’s too afraid, he’s too broken from the memory of watching his family been torn apart, to leave the house. he will be, for a while, he thinks.

“I’ll see you in a little while” mark says, his cheeks budding into a smile. he kisses donghyuck, caressing his back underneath his T-shirt. “I’ll get you some yummy food, wait for me, until then”

donghyuck nods, sliding his body free from his boyfriends hold. _is he your boyfriend, donghyuck? no, he’s your soulmate._

“okay, stay safe” donghyuck tells, he means it. of course he does. the country seems deserted, but he can’t trust anyone, or anything. he still had a pit of fear in his stomach every time mark leaves, anxiously waiting for his return. “I love you”

“always” mark grab the plastic bag that sits by the door, before descending into the rain.

—

it rains for a month. the rain floods the garden, and it seeps through the windows of the house, creating damp spaces on the floor, and on the walls. the heating no longer works. donghyuck was waiting for that to happen, for the supplier to run out. it was only a matter of time before the water completely runs dry, and the power will go too. donghyuck hopes that day won’t be too soon.

it’s gloomy, too. donghyuck could sense the iciness from mark as soon as they wake up. he can feel the body next to him be cold, the usual hand trickling through his hair curled up against marks own chest. empty, distant. something was wrong with mark, these past few days. _he’s giving up, donghyuck._

he doesn’t greet donghyuck with a morning kiss. he doesn’t tell him he loves him the moment he wakes up, instead he peels himself from the cold of the bathtub, and silently walks into the kitchen. he can hear the cupboards slam, shut tight with anger. he can hear the sob escape from marks throat, and his feet pattering around the house. he wants to comfort him, but everytime he steps close, mark steps away. mark hides his face. mark cries. mark doesn’t listen.

it’s only when the sun begins to set, that mark seems somewhat normal. his body still tense with gloom, and his eyes furrowed. he doesn’t sit near donghyuck on the couch like usual, he doesn’t run his hand between his thighs like he always did. but he speaks, for the first time that day, cold and low, cold and sad.

“what are we going to do?”

donghyuck lets his eyes lift to mark. he raises an eyebrow unconsciously, and shuffles towards him on the couch. “about what?”

mark scoffs. rude, donghyuck thinks. mark is never rude. but today he’s rude. today he’s abnormal. today the apocalypse is taking a toll on him.

“this” mark throws his hands up into the air. his crumpled face is being lit from one side by the damp window, the shadows of rain casting a grey glow on his face, illuminating it in sorrow. “this is painful, hyuck, everyday sucks because we are living for nothing”

it’s donghyuck’s time to scoff now. he can’t believe what he’s hearing, mark, who was always the positive one, mark, who saved his life, mark, his love, is giving up. _save him, donghyuck._

“what’s gotten into you, today, mark?” donghyuck is careful with his tone and words. he’s careful with his body language, but the soft hand he tries to set onto marks fist is rejected, pushed away into the plush of the couch. ouch. “we are living for something, mar-“

“what’s gotten into me? I don’t know. I don’t know, donghyuck. maybe it’s the constant reminder of my dead family, my brothers shoes sitting in the hallway, or the cranberry body wash I found under the sink before I went to bed” mark is rambling, his body folding in on himself. his eyes are wet with tears, tears that donghyuck wants to wipe away with gentle kisses, but mark won’t allow him, mark is sheltered.

“mark, calm down” donghyuck tries to be soft, because the image of mark breaking down before him is so painful. the image of his beautiful boy crumbling before him like a paper plane, wrecked, destroyed, is so painful. “there’s a lot to live for, you always told me, that we have to strive for the future”

“donghyuck there is no future here, anymore” marks voice was so small it was almost as if he didn’t want to believe his own words. maybe he didn’t want to hurt donghyuck, but it was too late now. his words stung into donghyuck’s chest like hot water, burning his heart.

“there’s nothing to live for” mark repeats, his bloodshot eyes heading to his folded hands in his lap.

“we have each other to live for, mark” donghyuck can’t help the feeling of his eyebrows meeting in the middle. he can’t help the slight anger that bubbles in his chest. he feels angry, angry that mark is not believing the words he had previously sprouted to donghyuck multiple times.

“you don’t love me”

that’s a slap in the face. that’s a burn in his chest. that’s a lie. a lie. a sick lie. a lie he can’t believe has left the lips of the other.

and donghyuck wants to cry. he wants to cry because mark is all he has, mark is all he knows anymore. he loves mark more than he loves the sunshine or the rain. he loves mark more than he loved coffee on a monday morning, he loves mark more than he loved riding to school on a bike. he loves mark more than anything. and it stings because he thought mark knew that.

“mark that’s ridiculous” donghyuck sounds angrier than he expected himself to. his words laced with sorrow, and rage. “how dare you even say something like that? of course I love you”

“you love me because I’m all you have” mark spits back, his words slick with venom and anger. donghyuck has never seen him like this, donghyuck has never felt so pushed away. “you think you love me because there’s nothing else to love, donghyuck, don’t you understand?”

“do I understand? do you understand how much that hurts me mark?” it takes a second for donghyuck to start shouting, his voice loud, too loud. “your my best friend, my soulmate, my rock, how dare you say that my love isn’t real?”

“it isn’t real donghyuck, you think it’s real because it’s all you’ve known for the past eight months, nine, a year, however long it’s been” mark shakes his head. his voice louder than donghyuck’s. it’s like a match, a match that neither will win. “you think you love me because I saved you from death, when all I did was lock you up in his house to wither away into dust!”

donghyuck rises to his feet, letting them carry him in circles against the creaking floor. mark follows, throwing his body around, almost in a way to prove his anger. donghyuck thinks he’s being ridiculous.

“so you don’t love me, mark?” donghyuck asks. for a split second, all rage is covered with a small sob.

“I love you donghyuck, you fucking idiot! it sucks because I know the love you have for me is not the same!” donghyuck wants to punch him, he wants to slap a hand over his face, he wants to scream into his face until his throat dries up. but he doesn’t. he retreats, he retreats until his back hits the living room wall, cold and harsh against his back, but nothing compared to the cold of marks words.

“fuck you, mark”

“charming donghyuck, you know I’m right, you know you don’t love me the same way I love you. your love is out of guilt” mark shakes his head. he presses donghyuck against the wall, one arm sheltering his head, the other next to his waist. but donghyuck felt nothing from the closeness, nothing to keep him warm. he felt anger. only anger, laced with pity.

“I love you more than the sun loves the moon, you dickhead” donghyuck fires back. he can feel his cheeks red with sadness. “what happened to you? you were fine yesterday, and now your causing arguments about nothing”

mark let’s him wiggle free. he’s defeated. less than ten minutes of shouting and he’s defeated. donghyuck wants him to feel guilty, he wants him to feel bad for how he’s made him feel, but he doesn’t say anything. donghyuck watches him cross the living room and slide on his pair of shoes. the pair of shoes that sit next to the white vans, taeyongs white vans, covered in dust. he watches as mark unlocks the front door, he watches as mark distends into the rain, without a jacket or a hood. he watches as mark ignores his voice, ignores donghyuck begging him to get back inside, and he disappears, into the emptiness, into the apocalypse.

mark doesn’t return until it’s dark. this worries donghyuck in every way possible. not only does it break their routine, of being curled into the bathtub by the time it’s ten at night, with the windows locked and curtains closed. it worries him because mark could’ve been anywhere, he could’ve been seen, or taken, or hurt.

donghyuck is curled into the bathtub, alone, tears on his cheek, when there’s three loud bangs on the front door. donghyuck panics, for a moment, but when he hears a familiar “it’s me, donghyuck” come through the letter box, his legs are carrying him towards the door, flying it open before he can even process it.

“‘mark, you’re such an idiot” donghyuck breathes, as his eyes are met with the image of mark, shivering into the wet of his T-shirt. his hair is stuck to his forehead with rain, his fingers trembling and shaking around his waist. “where did you go mark? I was worried sick”

mark opens his mouth for a moment, but no words come out. instead he brushes past donghyuck, his damp shoulder brushing against donghyuck’s for a split second, before he disappears into the hallway.

he’s hurt, hurt that mark didn’t even apologise, mark didn’t hug him or kiss him or make sure he was safe. it hurt because suddenly mark does not care, or at least that’s what it feels like. _he’s just upset, donghyuck._

“mark!” donghyuck yells, not to loud, but loud enough for Mark’s feet to stop shuffling, enough for mark to return to the living room. “talk to me”

“I’m sorry” mark shakes his head, closing the distance between them. his hands land on either side of donghyuck’s head, his face inches away from donghyuck’s. “I’m so sorry”

“what happened?” donghyuck’s voice is low, his body melting into the touch of marks hands. “why did you get like this, today?”

“I know you love me” mark says, a small kiss being pressed to his lips. “I know you love me with your entire heart”

“good”

“I had a dream, a dream about my parents, my brother, you” mark shakes his head, letting his hands leave donghyuck’s cheeks and slide to hold his wrists. “you met my parents, we went to dinner”

“wow” donghyuck can’t speak. there’s nothing he can say. he understands now, why mark crumbled. he’s still mad, of course he is, but he understands.

“I’m so sorry I reacted that way, I should have never yelled at you” another kiss hits donghyuck’s lips. marks mouth is cold, still damp from the rain that tickled onto his skin. “it’s all I have now”

“what?”

“the apocalypse, and you”

_—_

the pair of scissors brushing the skin of his neck tickles donghyuck to point he can’t sit still, giggles escaping his lips.

“if you keep moving then I’ll end up cutting your ear off” mark huffs playfully, using his spare hand to hold donghyuck still on the kitchen stool.

“why do I have to have short hair, anyway?” donghyuck is still laughing, causing mark to slap the back of his neck. “no one sees me but you!”

“because it looks pretty, do you wanna have hair down to your ankles?” mark spins the stool so donghyuck is facing him. donghyuck can’t help the rush of pink that rises to his cheeks. “your hair has grown out so much, it’s not even purple anymore”

mark is slowly cutting the front of donghyuck’s hair, the loose hair falling onto his lap. “does it look ugly?”

mark rolls his eyes, and leans to press a small kiss on donghyuck’s head. it’s little gestures like that, that makes it all so special. “no you fool, I just wonder what you looked like with bright purple hair”

“it was very nice, I looked like a round grape” donghyuck replies, letting mark kiss him again, soft and curt on the mouth. “I was chubbier then too, so I looked like a real-life grape”

“I’ll make you chubby again soon” mark shrugs. “feed you up with chicken soup and watermelon noodles”

donghyuck tries to reply, but his words are cut short by the sound of a car on the street, something that sounds foreign, something that hasn’t been heard in months, nearly a year. and then a scream, a loud bloody scream, that echoes through the house. _their back, donghyuck, don’t be scared._

“quickly” mark grabs donghyuck’s wrists, throwing the scissors onto the kitchen counter next to the dusty glasses. donghyuck is scared, the feeling of fear pulsating in his chest.

“why is there a car?” donghyuck whispers, letting mark take him into the bathroom, he watches mark turn off the light, and lets mark pull him into the safety of the bathtub. “what’s going on?”

“we’ll be fine, donghyuck” mark says, kissing his forehead. donghyuck wants to believe him, but the sound of marks pounding heart against his chest tells him that mark is somewhat scared.

“I thought we were all alone by now” donghyuck curls himself up onto marks chest, a tear falling down to soak marks white tshirt. “what are they doing here?”

“we are alone, okay? they won’t find us here”

and luckily, they don’t. they spend a few hours, cuddling inside of the bathtub, talking and distracting each other from what had happened. they don’t hear another sound outside, after the car and scream. nothing. not even the sound of rain. not even the sound of the trees in the wind. so that comforts them, and they find themselves sitting on the living room couch, in a tumble of limbs.

by the time it’s midday, marks stomach is rumbling, almost in time with donghyuck’s own hunger. they both groan, because the fridge is only occupied by two tins, one with peas, one with pineapple. it wasn’t enough to call a meal. _your hungry, donghyuck, you need some food._

“are you super hungry?” mark asks, letting his head fall onto donghyuck’s lap. donghyuck hums, and lets his fingers glide over the skin in marks forehead. it’s warm and damp, from the sun that’s seeping through the window. “I can go and get some food, if you want”

“stay here with me” donghyuck pouts, tangling fingers within his black locks. warm. mark is warm. mark was always warm. “let’s dance around the house until we can’t feel our feet anymore!”

“I wish!” mark laughs, pulling donghyuck’s shirt down so he can lock his lips with his own. “you can’t starve all day, I’ll go and get us some food”

“no” donghyuck breathes into his mouth, kissing him once more. he can’t get enough, today. mark taste like love, today. more so than usual. “let’s stay here for a while, please”

mark complies, for a while. donghyuck kisses him all over until they can’t breathe, until his lips are red raw. he kisses him until he can’t kiss any more, until he forces mark onto his feet to dance around the house.

“you’re a good dancer, baby” mark yells out, sliding his hand between donghyuck’s slender fingers to spin him around the kitchen. “you should dance more”

donghyuck sticks a tongue out. his heart filling with warmth and shelter when mark leans him down to kiss his face. _he loves you, donghyuck._

though they couldn’t dance forever, because donghyucks stomach rumbles so loudly over the music that mark forces him to stop, places two hands on his shoulders and licks his nose.

“I have to get some food before the sun sets” mark tells him, his hands squeezing the skin on his shoulders. “I won’t be long”

“I can live without food for today” donghyuck whines, stomping his bare feet on the wooden floor beneath him. he didn’t like the feeling that was in his chest. he didn’t want mark to leave him here, today, but he knew there was no choice.

“you can’t. you're wasting away” mark laughs slightly,releasing his hands from donghyuck’s hold. “I won’t be long, hyuck, don’t worry”

but donghyuck does worry, he thinks about the car he heard in the morning, he tries to not dwell on it, because nothing will happen. _nothing will happen, donghyuck._

“I should probably get you some more flowers, too” mark adds, touching the dead flowers that sit on the counter next to the glasses. “before summer ends”

donghyuck nods, sticking his bottom lip out.

he watches mark cross to the door, sliding on his usual pair of trainers. he takes the plastic bag, and wraps it over his wrist.

“I love you” donghyuck smiles, his cheeks rounding into apples. he kisses marks lips, deep and passionate, not afraid to let his tongue slip into his mouth. “I love you too much”

mark laughs, pulling himself away from donghyuck’s hold. “stop that. or I will never leave”

“okay” donghyuck lets him go, his fingers dragging over the skin on his arms. “I’ll see you later,”

“I’ll see you!” mark winks, before closing the front door behind him.

_I’ll see you._

it’s a while, a long while, for those words to stop replaying inside of donghyuck’s head. I’ll see you, I’ll see you, I’ll see you. because he doesn’t.

donghyuck doesn’t know how long he waits, sitting by the door, waiting for mark to come home. a week, a month, two months. he looses count. he looses count the first time he crumpled to the ground with his head in his heads, his chest burning with grief.

he thinks mark will come back, eventually. he hopes mark would come back, safe, to him. but when he crosses the kitchen, and sees the scissors mark dropped onto the counter the day he left, building with a similar layer of dust to the glasses that sit beside it, donghyuck knows he’s gone.

donghyuck wants to believe he’s been rescued, taken far away until he can rescue him too _, but donghyuck knows he’s most likely been taken to the graveyard_.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic took me a while, so please please please leave a comment and kudos! it will mean so much :)
> 
> also feel free to follow me on twitter @127dh, i post fanarts and stuff :) 
> 
> more fics coming very soon, hint hint vampires, so please keep an eye on my page. Thank you!


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